Ra-han-dom...

The downfall of having a shower down the hall: you forget all the brilliance by the time you get back to your room after your shower…. Gonna try anyway.

Rereading Romeo and Juliet for seminar prep for Thursday--

Was it love or was it madness??

I think its true that all love is madness. Without getting into the attempts to define things that are undefinable i.e. love, I think that being willing and actually changing your world and your life for someone or something… that’s crazy; that’s madness.

All love is madness, but not all madness is love.

So were these just two horny kids, in the peak of their rebellious state? This would seem logical until the part where they decide that death is their best option… or were they really just in too deep and are a prime example of taking “go big or go home” to the ultimate level?

I’m a realist, but I’m also a hopeless romantic, and yes, sometimes it's hard to be both, but like any other piece or art or work, or anything at all in this world, this piece is up for personal interpretation… personally- I think it was love, maybe fueled by hormones and passion and lust, but at the end of the day, if all you have in your life is one person and you would willingly take your life rather than live without them… I don’t care if some people call that madness or desperation, I call it crazy and devotion and love.

This somehow led to brainstorming paper topics--

LOVE—

Love as a commodity. It has been processed and reprocessed and adjusted to fit every situation and circumstance imaginable.

So what of my own consumption of books, media, movies, etc… what about my consumption of love stories??

They dictate my life, but in their reproduction, was there ever an authenticity? And if there was, does it get lost through reproduction, like Barthes suggested with art and aura and status?

Were they once true? Did people really fall in love in these majestic magical, breathtaking ways? Or was this just the tale of some sad housewife wishing for what she had never had as she tucked her children in to sleep at night?

And does it matter? Aren't we soo deep in this fallacy that this type of sweep-you-off-your-feet love exists that it wouldn’t matter if there was documentation found somehow that all these famous love stories were fiction. It wouldn’t even matter to a lot of people, albeit mostly women.

----

ADDITION—10/26/09

What about my own love story? When I had/have the guy… the one throwing rocks at my window, saying super cute things, I blow it off as too cliché and therefore not real. It must be fabricated because things like that don’t happen in real life. Am I being stupid? Am I seriously wanting everything in these books and movies to happen and then rejecting them as insincere when they do???

What kind of girl gets rid of the guy who leaves a hand-dyed home-grown blue rose on her car in the morning before school??

A jaded one.

The stories and knowing how reproduced and unrealistic and unlikely they are to happen/be real… that knowledge is making me reject my chance to be the exception and actually have a guy do those things for me. It’s like my intelligence and study of these fabrications and depictions of love through the eye of the media is not enabling me to live a life that accepts these grand gestures as pure.

Maybe this is good- a safety net so my heart won’t break.

But what if these guys are doing these things because they think they’re supposed to; because that’s the way you’re supposed to let the girl know that she’s all you want and that you love her.

They do it because it’s in the books and movies; I reject it because it’s in the books and movies and those have lost their authenticity… when in reality, their authenticity is being reproduced and recreated right in front of me… if only I would let it be.

Taking cues from the media-

But the media isn’t real life… how do we know what is imitation because they think they’re supposed to do it because guys on tv do, or imitation because they think that’s how girls expect love to be expressed??

Blah.

----

Then jumped to comment my sister made on my facebook status--

Best friends-

I used to not believe in putting titles on things-

It's not that I like using someone else’s predefined definition of things to supposedly neatly fit exactly into my life, I still don’t, but now, it just doesn’t seem to be as big of a deal.

Some may call it maturity, but I’m just lazy.

Is that it then? It’s not that we stop believing in the things we used to fight for and strike for and rally for when we were younger, it’s just that as we get older, we just don’t have the energy anymore?

We’d rather use our energy for things that society deems worthy i.e. things that will make us money. Are we really that jaded?

Is it an economic decision, simply inevitable, or are we confusing maturity with lazy?

Loooonnnngggg Daaayyy

Summary of the longest day ever (not really, but it was a lengthy little one):

~Wake up at 5:17. You must be kidding me.

~Go outside; almost get eaten by a fox/potentially saved a bunny's life.

~Make it to the train station- fail at buying a ticket with my card at the machine (cards are different here I guess) BUT end up saving money thanks to the nice conductor man.

~Try to sleep while listening to annoying fat British boys yell about whatever game they were playing on their DS's

~Get to London- prove to be an idiot by putting the wrong ticket through the machine and trying to walk through anyway.

~Ride the TUBE!!!!!

~Make it to the buses exactly on time... still no coffee.

~Sleep most of the way into the NOTHINGNESS that surrounds Stonehenge.

~Get off the coach and into the rain that the wind always found a way to blow right on to you.

~Ignore the guided tour of Stonehenge. Take 3-4 pictures. Go get food/coffee. (AMAZING Almond Slice cake thing by the way)

~Get back on the coach... finish coffee... fall completely in love with the British countryside and rolling hills and OMG the GREEN!!!!

~Get off the coach in Chippenham (pronounced Chip-in-em... but said with a British accent and all fast and squished together)

~Eat cheesy fries and chicken nuggets at a place called JAX... where I overheard two old ladies talking in the bathroom about how befuddled and bewildered they are by the thought of flavored condoms (that were being sold in the restroom)

~Go to Lacock Abbey. Almost die from the beauty.

~Think really really long and hard about trying to go touch a sheep.

~Took 100 pictures of the nature (and baby waterfall I found!!) and the cute little town.

~Get back on the coach and try to sleep... which is code for pass out for an hour, waking up every time your head does the bob... and feels like it's about to fall off.

~Get back to London. Take the tube, get on the train, switch trains.

~Fight off hunger pains.

~Find out that Falmer Bar is closed... bye bye dinner plans.

~Make it home. Shower immediately. Make breakfast for dinner- again.

Present:

~Write this blog.

~Avoid the presentation I have to put together by Monday.

~Get super stoked about starting a new book :)

The end.

Blah.

I am not heartbroken anymore. I am not tortured by some guy... sure I have my moments and I certainly have my memories, but I am over it all and fully ready to move on.

So why am I the new face of emo lately??

I think it's because I want a relationship and in a sick, twisted way, I want the ability to be that heartbroken.

I haven't been in a real relationship since high school and yes I know I'm young and still have time and all that, but I need to be with someone. I've been alone for way too long.

And I actually and truthfully don't care anymore... about what other people are doing, who other people are doing, etc. I just know that that's not what I want. As much as I want it. It isn't what I actually want.

I want love.
I want the chance have my core shaken.

I want my life changed.

I want a chance. And I want something real.

It's time for something legit.

There.

I finally know what I want.

And that's not to say I won't take whatever opportunities come along, but at the end of the day, I'm not looking for a hookup. I'm looking for legit.

Now the big question is how and will I ever find/get it...

To be continued...

BIG FUCKING SIGH

It's not about how many beers you have or how many nights you spend out with the girls: you still miss him.

So what is the remedy??

God- if I only knew.

I drank my emotions tonight, hoping that I'd find a moment of solace, a moment, just a second to forget, but I never did. I never do.

There is a special part of your heart that you give away that is irreplaceable, unforgivable, and irreconcilable. Once you give it- it's over.

That part of you is forever gone.

So think about your own life...

How many times how you truly given yourself???

For me it was twice. It was... it IS painful. It will never stop hurting; I'm a firm believer in that. But at the end of the day... we took the chance, we made the leap, we accepted and created love. And that should, at the end of the day, replace heartache.

But it doesn't.

I know that.

What fixes the hurt that we've brought on ourselves?? What can mend our souls; our hearts? What can give us back all that we've given??

Maybe the answer is nothing- maybe we really do have to suck it up and move on. But maybe in there- in the tragedy that we create for ourselves... maybe we find something; anything to pull us through.

I am here. I am waiting. Waiting for my life to change; waiting for anything that will change my mind and more importantly, change my heart.

I'm not so sure that any such thing exists...

How many times do you need to be rejected to figure out that you're not what guys want?

I don't even know the count- I just know that I'm done- that I'm over it.

That as much as I desperately need the physical; I honestly need the emotional more.

"I want you to want me." -Cheap Trick

Maybe they had it right all along...

What else is there to want??

To be loved- oh to be loved is beautiful, but to be IN LOVE... that is something that NOTHING can replace- nothing can erase; not time, not new love, not anything.

AND THAT'S WHAT HURTS. THAT IS WHAT YOU CAN'T SHAKE. THAT IS WHAT YOU'LL BE LOOKING FOR FOR ALWAYS.

NEVER ENOUGH.

NEVER.

EVER.

ENOUGH.

I'm not okay-I haven't been this fucked up since I had my heart shattered... but now it's different- now I can't blow it off - now it's me.

I can't shake that- but maybe I can change it.

There has to be; there MUST be some reason to keep me here; to keep me living...

There HAS to be love- otherwise, what's the point??

All there is for me is love; and my version of love is unrealistic... so what now???

My question honestly is: What fucking now?

Everything or nothing.

It's one or the other.

The Constant Battles Of Being A 20-Something Female.

Here's what I got:

Eventually we have to realize that it isn't us. We all need to process and accept and so fully believe that no matter how great a guy was and how perfect a relationship may have been... if he can't see the amazing that we are and have that be worth fighting for no matter what... then it's not us that aren't enough; it's him.

And eventually those places that you can't go to again or the places that make you cry as you walk by them... eventually those places will harbor memories that sometimes make you smile. Sometimes. But those times will come and when they do, you'll remember the good. You'll remember why it was worth it to you in the first place; why it meant anything at all. And then sometimes you remember the pain and try to convince yourself all over again that you're better off and that it's his loss. And it really is his loss. And you may feel like you will never find another love like that... but if that's true for you and for the great women out there, it's ten times more true for him. Truth: we're the catch. I think you have to believe that about yourself. Otherwise, what's the point?

Eventually there will be days when you don't think about him at all. The worst part about those days is you can't celebrate not thinking about him without thinking about him and then you're back to square one. I think the vital thing is when you stop wanting to celebrate forgetting to think of him for a day, a week... that's when you're actually moving on.

The trick to this whole thing is somehow convincing yourself that you are enough. That you are amazing and worthy of love and that it's not your fault that some guy who seemed SOOO amazing at the time couldn't see that or didn't want to fight for that or gave up on that. Trying to tell yourself that while drowning in your own self-doubt and swimming through emotional baggage is hell. Sometimes people will tell you that all you need to do is meet someone who will make you feel worthy and loved for exactly who you are.

And of course you'll be hesitant because that's what happened last time. But this person could be anyone; it doesn't have to be your next great love. Regardless, they're still gonna be hard to believe.

Personally, I've been searching for that person for as long as I can remember. The one person who gets me and who has my back NO. MATTER. WHAT. No questions. Obviously this takes a while to build up to; that trust; that faith; that concrete love.

So I decided to be that person for myself.

I figured I might as well work on the one relationship I can actually control. And I learned to like myself and even love certain parts of me. And as alienating and potentially unhealthy as it is, I'm learning to live for me. And it feels incredible at times and unbelievably lonely at times. But at the end of the day, I know I'm always going to be here and I know that I, if no one else, will love me exactly the way I am (not to mention get all my jokes and accept my shortcomings).

This has gotten far more complex and obscure than I intended. But I think the point remains simple:

Love yourself.

Forgive yourself.

Take a step back and look at the situation- realize that it's not all your fault.

If there's no one else in the world; work on you.

Once you love you, it will be sooo much easier for other people to love you.

And if you're going through hell, keep going, keep fighting.

It does get easier.

Feel worth it.

Believe that you are worth it.

Because you are. No matter how many people try to make you think or make you feel differently. You HAVE to believe in yourself enough to know that you will make it through this and you will find someone to whom you won't be just enough... you'll be far more than enough.

You'll be everything.

Sussex: A Romance.

I decided that Sussex is a beautiful place to be in love. It's so damn picturesque here. Right now, with the fall leaves dotting the green grass that consumes most of campus and with benches everywhere and spots under the trees... it's every novel ever written and it's amazing. And on days like today, where it's still chilly enough to cuddle and be close to someone, but the sun keeps peeking out and reminding you that it's not quite winter yet. It screams romance. And to be there. To be here.... wow.

I could think of a million dates just on this campus... and if not dates, places to go; places to be together. Days like today make me sooo envious, but also soo hopeful. Could you imagine being in love here? Having someone to be in your book with you? To share those moments... up in the Downs mocking the cows... sitting on that bench under the trees, watching the leaves fall and the students hustle to and from class... grabbing coffee... walking through the woods... going to the beach for an afternoon on the rocks... watching the sun set and turning into an ice cube. But it would be okay because there would be someone there to hold you and to warm you... and if not physically, then in your heart. They would warm your heart. And you would be the cliché. For once, you would be the lucky one who had the right person in the right place to be the cliché; to be THE moment... to be the envied.

Yes. Sussex would be a great place to be in love.

And a horrible place to be heartbroken and/or lonely.

Or even worse- to have been in love here and now to not be... to see all the places that I, who have never been in love anywhere, let alone here, am moved by, but to have the memories that go along with my fantasies... that would be hell.

It's a double-edged sword... but too beautiful to leave you feeling pessimistic.

Optimism hits you out of nowhere... like a chance appearance by the sun.

Blurry lines.

I have a tendency to blame myself. For everything. For things I know I have or had zero control over. I feel like women do this waaayyy more than men. We are always the ones saying, "oh I should have known better" and "I should have seen this coming" but we don't. We never do. Unless you have the gift of prophecy, you're just as screwed as the next girl. But here's the thing... what if we did know?

What if we were smart and in tune enough to see the signs right off the bat and know that this is guy is a douche, or this will be a 6 month relationship and will end mutually, or even- this will be a great love for a long time, but then leave me devastated and heartbroken for almost as long. What would we do?

If you knew the ending, would you jump anyway? There is a point where we would all say, you know, it was worth it: all the great times, the life-altering moments, the breathtaking memories of times when you felt the best and most alive in an almost indescribable way. There is a point where we would still want all of the great times, knowing that heartache was coming. But how far would you go? Knowing how it's gonna hurt. There must be a balance between how much the good is worth and how much we can handle the bad. Everyone has a limit, everyone has a line where the pain isn't worth it anymore, no matter how amazing things might have been.

So the question really is: is it better to love and lose, or never know that love at all?

Everyone has a line. Where's yours?

Distance

Distance is a funny thing.

Sometimes being far away makes you think you'll be free, and you want the distance so badly, until you get it... and you really are that far away.

Sometimes the distance plays tricks on you. You think it will be an escape, but you just end up talking more often to the people you wanted to get away from because you aren't there to occasionally run into them or say hey.

And then there's the people you don't like to be far away from; the ones you wouldn't mind talking to every day while you're away... those are the people you're close to. Distance disregarded. But these are the people you actually feel far away from. These are the people you want to swap with the other people who you were running from in the first place.

But these people you want to talk to and be close to... they don't want to talk to you. They don't miss you. And that makes you want to run from them too.

Pretty soon, you're sprinting from everyone and everything, trying to get just lost enough that you'll have to think about where you are instead of how far away you are and how alone you feel now that you feel the distance.

There is something crazy about distance. Because you really can be next to someone and miss them, because their heart is far away. Or you can be half a world away and feel close to someone because of a phone call or a letter or some interaction that makes you think of them; makes you feel like they're there with you.

Distance is a bitch. It would be much better if you could choose who you felt the distance with... but I guess you can. Leaving, actually physically distancing yourself, is just step one. To actually distance yourself is different, it's deeper, it hurts way more. It's like falling out of love. Admitting that what was once there no longer is... having to step back, realize that, and then let go. It's a bitch. And I don't think I'm ever going to be ready to do it. I think I may seriously need to cut myself off. I may need some honest decompression time. Some alone time to really reflect on the shitshow my life has been... maybe I can sit with myself long enough to figure something out. Something deep. Something profound. Something actually real. Something helpful. Something that will make me better.

Rain.

I just remembered what it feels like to kiss in the rain. I wish it was for a good reason, like I just kissed someone in the rain... it's not. lol. Regardless, I remembered. It was a great moment to remember; a wonderful flashback to have.

And honestly, there's something majestic and beautiful about the rain. Something completely undeniable.

I think I love the rain because it's so rare in CA, so it's something to be appreciated and cherished. I always think of it as a fresh start; like the rain washes everything away.

Putting that in the context of England weather is actually pretty cool and a good motto for my time here.

It rains almost everyday. Er go, it would seem, that everyday is a fresh start. And that's cheesy and cliche and all that, but at the same time, it's true, and it's how I want to look at things.

I went on a walkabout yesterday... up through the hills. It was sunny and glorious. The best part was that everything was fresh. It was that day after the rain feeling and everything was still damp but renewed...

I totally felt like I was in the middle of Beauty and the Beast... you know, before she gets captured...

My Beauty and the Beast moment... :)

The point is it was amazing. Being out there in the gorgeous green rolling hills and the tunnel of trees... it was amazing. This was the moment I fell in love with England. It may not look like that great of a photo... but this was the moment. And I loved it.

More pictures on facebook will be up shortly, but these 3 were my favorites I think :)

Don't mock my dreams.

There is nothing else.

There is no light.

There is no magic; no day of reckoning.

There is nothing we don't create.

And we create for ourselves.

I have created change.
I have created opportunity.

And I am proud.

I am thankful.

I am the same.

There has been no shift.

Maybe I don't want there to be.

Maybe I'm just not being bold enough; maybe I'm copping out.

The question once again is: what do I want?

If I knew the answer I might not be here... I might be anyway...

I don't know what I want. I don't know what I want out of this trip, I don't know what I want out of life....

Oh shit. Maybe I do.

I don't want to be lonely anymore.

I think that's it. I think that's all there is to life.

As much as I like being alone and on my own... I don't want to be lonely.

I want someone to have, to hold, to be with. I want security and strength and faith. I want it now. I want it always... not necessarily with the same person... but I want it.

And so a choice needs to be made. I am convinced, that if I made the choice to be a slut here, I could be. Guys want sex everywhere... but if I make the choice that I don't want just that... I put myself out there and I open myself up to hurt. Clearly not the best option for the time... but can I do anything else?? I don't know... I guess I should find out, eh?

"You have your reasons, Lord, I have mine..." -Augustana

I do have my reasons, but the passion behind them is fading... I need to stop getting comfortable. I need to go out. I need to get out.

...

But I did.

I ran away.

I hope it was enough.

But let's be honest... half way around the world isn't far enough to run away from everything. The past follows you. It haunts you. You need it. And the faster you run, the harder you crash into it.

It's time to own up.

It's time to step up.

It's time to be .... anything but what I am.

"Yeah I know that everyone gets scared, but I'll become what I can't be" -OneRepublic

I'll become what I can't be.

I can't be.

I won't be.

Strongbow Tuesday

Next time I'm in Europe, I won't be studying... I want to be in an Ernest Hemingway novel. I want to go where his characters went; see the running of the bulls. Live it. Love it. Be insane.

But this time. I'm debating. I had a great night in. That may seem lame and uneventful. But given the choice, I think I made the right one. I love the crew. Flat 9 is amazing. But more than that; I'm seriously beginning to learn... there is no epiphany. There is no light. There is no sign. There is me. There is who I am. There is what I want.

I am who I am. I am what I am. I can't reverse the last 20 years, nor do I want to. But the point is; my personality isn't going to change. Sure I may be a bit bolder, a bit more confident, but at the end of the day, I'm still going to be the same old me. And as much as that sucks, it's also quite conforting... knowing I can be who I am anywhere. And do what I like with people who like the same things... I love my life. I love England. I love San Diego.

And I hope one day soon, I will fully love me and the choices I've made...

Ooohhh I feel it coming.

One way or the other...

its going down.

Soon.

Get ready.

I'm not.

Someday soon... -Ella Fitzgerald.

Ever have one of those moments when you feel like you're 5 years old again and your biggest concern is whose team you'll be on at recess... and then there are those times when you feel way older than you are. Like you're so incredibly over and above the situation that it's not even fun to pretend.

Tonight was a night of diversity. A night of jealousy. Of outtakes. Of drinking. Of celebrating. Of dancing. Of awkwardness. Of learning. Of understanding. Of friendship.

Tonight was a lot of things.

Tonight is over. Part of me is glad... part of me wanted to extend it... just a bit... just enough to the point that I'd be too tired to go home... Soon. Someday soon.
Some day.
Some.
Day.

Too Soon To Tell...

So England.



About that...



It's too soon to make statements and too rash to have revelations... nevertheless... maybe I'm starting to get it.



So far this has been nothing that I expected and everything I could have needed. I don't think this trip, this part of my life, is going to be earth-shattering and ground-breaking. Maybe I won't have epic stories that I tell for the rest of my life about the moment it all became clear, the moment I found whatever it may be in England, or the time I experienced this or that... maybe what I'm slowly starting to realize is that I'm not here to change who I am. I may not be here, or ever be anywhere for that matter, that is going to transform who I am.

Maybe I'm bolder here. But that isn't the place changing me, it's me making the decision to just do it.



I know that who I am right now isn't enough for me for the rest of forever, but honestly, the base, the fundamental person that I am is. I know who I am. Enough anyway. I have my reasons, I have my prinicples and I don't want to become a different person, I just want to be the version of me that I need to be...



Cheesy as it may be, I really think that's obtainable... and maybe even happening already.



I want to be bold enough to speak up, to take chances, to ask questions, and to discover (within myself and otherwise) the right questions to ask. I want to learn. That's why I'm here.

Learn about "Theory, Taste, and Trash" and "Consuming Passions" apparently, but also and mostly about myself and how I fit into the world.

This is jumbled and very inconcise. Grr...